“She should have known better. I had warned Captain Silvereye to tell his mercenaries not to approach him from behind like that. Guardians can get away with it; he can sense us. It isn’t wise to startle the Rift King like that.”
Sighing, Lord Delrose nodded. “Captain Blackhand frightens her—and that’s without considering his reputation as the Rift King. He looked her in the eye and revealed everything she feared in front of the company, making her fears a reality. She meant to redeem herself in front of the Mithrians, but instead, he showed her how right he was. She had no business leaving Elenrune without an armed escort, and everyone here knows it.”
Breton scowled. “Her Yadesh is equally at fault. She allowed it.”
“I don’t think you understand, Guardian. Relas has no choice. She is a Yadesh bound in service to her king, as you are bound to your Rift King. When King Aelthor gives an order, they
must
obey.”
The Kelshite’s words made Breton pause and think. “Some do,” he conceded. “Others ally themselves with Rifters.”
Lord Delrose shook his head. “You don’t understand. They’re severed, their bondmates dead. They are no longer bound to Kelsh’s king, not without a Knight. The king, fool that he is, has stated unbound Yadesh are useless unless they are partnered to a new Squire. By his words, the bond tying the Yadesh to him is nullified once their Knight perishes. Satrin and Dorit are free. Relas is not.”
“Your king is a thrice-cursed fool,” Breton snarled, his rage burning away at him.
“If my son is right, he’s also a murderer,” the Kelshite whispered in a pained voice. “But he isn’t really my son anymore, is he? He’s yours.”
Breton’s eyes widened at Lord Delrose’s admission. It took him a long moment to consider what he could say that wouldn’t serve to make matters worse between them. “He acknowledges you as his sire,” he said cautiously. “Father is an honor earned.”
“How did
you
earn it?” Kalen’s sire spat out as though the words tasted bitter.
“That’s for him to tell you, Lord Delrose. But I’ll tell you that the honor to call someone a foal or a son is likewise earned. But sometimes, it’s a gift given by others.”
Of all of the gifts given to him in Breton’s life, Kalen was the most precious of all, and he had Kelsh’s king to thank for it.
There was something sad about Lord Delrose’s smile, but the man’s expression was the closest Breton had seen to acceptance. “Might you have some advice for me?”
“For tea, Lord Delrose, he’d endure your company,” he admitted. “It’s difficult to get such things in the Rift. Our brews are far stronger. He never wearies of tea. We try to get it for him as often as we can, but it isn’t easy.”
“He likes it that much?”
“I never said it made sense,” Breton said, coughing to hide his smile.
“What else?”
“If you really wish to spend time with him, learn to say nothing at all. For men like my colt, peace and quiet are rare. Your silence could earn you more than any words you could ever say to him.”
“One last question, if you mind. Why was he given a stick instead of a practice sword? He looked ready to kill someone when he was given it.”
“Captain Silvereye is wise. Remember, Lord Delrose, when he wields a sword, he is fighting for his life. Why burden him unnecessarily? With a stick, he can be proud of his skill. With a sword, all he would do is remember the color of blood and the faces of those he has killed. If Princess Tala wishes to earn his respect, she should ask him to teach her.”
“To teach her? You mean the sword?”
“The sword, Rifter, Mithrian, or anything of substance, including how to rule. It doesn’t matter, so long as she seeks to improve herself and rectify her mistakes. Who knows, Lord Delrose, that might work for you as well.” After a nod to the Rift King’s sire, Breton went in search of Captain Silvereye to discuss the woman who had come at his foal from behind.
~~*~~
Hiding wouldn’t make Kalen’s problems disappear, but facing them wouldn’t do much good either. Muttering curses, he leaned against Maiten, who remained sprawled on the cot. He longed for the solitude of his study and the pile of missives waiting for him in Blind Mare Run.
“Things are much simpler in the Rift,” he declared, jabbing Maiten’s stomach with his elbow.
His Guardian chuckled. “Of course. ‘Don’t kill me and I won’t kill you, now unless you have something important for me, go away and let me work’ does have a certain amount of simplicity to it.”
“Hellfires, Maiten. It’s bad enough my own people want me dead. I don’t need every kingdom out for my blood on top of it. Rifters are a challenge enough.”
Maiten snorted, prodding Kalen in the ribs with a finger. “Nonsense, Your Most Royal Yet Silly Majesty. There hasn’t been a serious try on your life in years, and you know it. That Danarite got too close for comfort, though. Us Guardians are going to be more careful from now on to ensure it doesn’t happen again.”
Kalen wrinkled his nose, batting away his Guardian’s hand. “Stop that. You know there have been attempts. They just don’t want to face exile to the deeps, and after I left one alive…” With a shake of his head, he tried to dispel the memory, but it was too vivid and strong to deny.
Only a week after reaching adulthood, Kalen hadn’t been able to consider the man as anything other than a wayward foal. It had been the first time he’d left one of his assailants alive. Breton had been the one who to enforce the Code while Kalen had been forced to watch, uttering the final severance.
If he kept leaving enemies in his wake instead of corpses, he likely wouldn’t survive his escape from the Rift.
“Don’t worry; we’ll protect you,” Maiten said with a wicked grin. “From all of the mares wanting you or your blood, of course.”
“Better my blood than my bed,” he muttered in disgust.
“So claim that princess as yours and groom her into a mare worthy of being your Queen. With Crysallis here, I bet we can acquire the Courting serpents.” Maiten leered at him. “She’s pretty, Kalen. Imagine the Queen she could be for you.”
Kalen shuddered. “Absolutely not.”
“Why not?”
“Riran and her herd would eat her alive, Maiten. As she is now? She wouldn’t even make it to Blind Mare Run without something killing her off.” The truth, however, Kalen didn’t speak.
Kelsh’s Princess and Heir had many reasons to hate him. If—when—he became involved, he would be the man who forced her to become Kelsh’s queen, forcing the crown on her head.
It was likely he would leave her as an orphan, and taking her as the Rift Queen would only ensure she lived in his shadow.
“Riran doesn’t worry you,” was his Guardian’s chiding reply.
“Princess Tala will want my blood in earnest soon enough,” Kalen muttered, rising to his feet and stepping to the tent flap. “It’s unavoidable. Unless something changes, I’ll be the one to murder her sire.”
“And when she tries, we’ll be waiting for her. Consider giving her a chance. She might surprise you. Maybe she’ll see the truth for what it is. Maybe underneath the damage her sire has wrought, there is a Queen worthy of you.”
“What good would a union between the Rift King and Kelsh’s que—” Kalen jerked to a halt, standing straighter. “Maiten, you know the Covenant as well as I do. You’re versed in the politics of most kingdoms. If she’s crowned before Kelsh’s offer of betrothal is accepted, what would that mean?”
Maiten grunted. “You know the answer to that as well as I do, Kalen. You’d be the Rift King as well as Kelsh’s rightful king. Considering who you are and who you once were, no one, not even the Council of the Six, could dispute your rightful claim to Kelsh’s throne. All you need is proof of Aelthor’s attempted regicide.”
~We have proof,~
Satrin said, shoving his golden, antlered head inside, startling Kalen into retreating away from the tent flap.
~Yadesh are truthseers. Any truthseer worth his or her keep can verify my words before the Council. You could take King Aelthor’s head, crown, and daughter without any fear of retaliation.~
Kalen pinched the bridge of his nose. “How much did you hear?”
~All of it, of course,~
was the Yadesh’s smug reply.
“Hellfires.”
~Princess Tala wouldn’t kill you.~
The stallion flicked an ear back.
~She’ll just make you wish she would.~
“Thrice-curse and sand-blast her.”
“Be nice,” Maiten chided.
~Captain Silvereye wishes to see you, Your Majesty, and asked me to fetch you.~
Kalen groaned. “Can this day get any worse? Wait, don’t answer that. Of course it can. Lead the way, Satrin.”
Captain Silvereye was laughing at him, and Kalen didn’t understand why. Amusement lit the Mithrian’s mismatched eyes, partnered with the man’s shameless grin.
“I don’t understand what is so funny,” Kalen said when Silvereye didn’t speak.
The command tent was empty save for them. Silvereye was perched on one of the stools next to the table. “Sit down and relax, Blackhand. You look like you’re expecting your execution.”
Kalen sank down onto a stool. “I’ll confess I’m surprised Parice didn’t skin me alive.”
Silvereye’s grin widened. “Don’t tell him I said this, but I think he was pleased by the development. I wouldn’t exactly say the woman you laid out, Anrille, is a bad person, but she’s sent more than her fair share of men to the healers when they’ve implied women can’t serve as equals in the company. She doesn’t seem able to distinguish the difference between men mocking her or discriminating against her versus those unwilling to injure an ally. So, she does more harm than good, roughing others up to prove her worth. I expect she thought she could make an example out of you.”
Clacking his teeth, Kalen considered the Mithrian’s words. “Has she tried to make an example out of you?”
“Once. I told her if she tried to undermine my authority again, I’d send her packing to Mithrias as an unaffiliated free hire.” With a shrug, Captain Silvereye turned his attention to the parchments scattered in front of him.
“And you let her get away with that? Is she one of those I’ll be in charge of?”
“Do you want her?”
Kalen frowned. “It depends.”
“On?”
With a shrug, he replied, “If she were mine, she’d have to prove she was worth her spot. How far is she willing to go to do that? I won’t tolerate such behavior, not under my command. That sort of thing gets people killed. It’s why we have the Code. Duels with sticks? That’s fine. Everyone walks away alive. Sneak attacks from behind? It’s unacceptable.”
Kalen frowned, resisting the urge to rub the back of his neck. He didn’t want to think about it, but before he had thrown her, he’d felt something scrape against his skin. The First had, for a moment, been alarmed. Then the creature had settled, unimpressed by the woman’s efforts. Anrille had tried to do something more than grab him.
But why? The First knew, but the creature refused to enlighten him.
He wasn’t certain if he wanted to share his suspicion with his co-captain. Thinking about it was enough to unsettle him.
“She’s an extremely talented archer,” Captain Silvereye replied in a neutral voice.
“How talented?”
“She’s the best I’ve ever seen. If you can control her, she’s an asset in battle. I have never seen her miss her target. You must understand, Blackhand, it isn’t easy for women in mercenary companies. I lynch rapists in the Crimson Eye. If they’re lucky, I blacklist them, tie them up, and abandon them somewhere for the vultures to find, letting them die the slow death they deserve. Most of the women with us are from other companies without such rules.”
It took all of Kalen’s will to avoid tensing. Smothering his growing anger, he nodded.
“The same applies to both men and women. I’ve two truthseers in the company. False accusers and rapists are punished in equal measure, without exception.”
“Good.”
“I don’t suppose I need to give your Guardians the speech, do I?”
“If you want to explain what rape is to them, by all means, be my guest. I’ll watch while you do it,” Kalen said, unable to keep the smug satisfaction out of his voice.
Captain Silvereye jerked his head up and stared at him with wide eyes. “What?”
“There isn’t a word for rape in the Rifter language, Silvereye, not anymore. There was a term for it from before the Covenant, but it doesn’t have any meaning anymore.”
“How is that possible? Rape isn’t usually about the sex, not really. It’s about power over another person.”
Kalen chewed on his thumbnail as he considered how to address the issue. “When most men and women enjoy each other’s company simply because someone offered an invitation, where is there power? Sex is as commonplace as food for them. I know fewer than ten couples pledged to each other as permanent pairings.”
“I don’t think I understand,” Silvereye replied.
With a sigh, Kalen wondered why he always ended up having to explain the Rift’s activities to Outsiders. “Let’s assume we’re in the Rift, and you see a lady you’d like to bed. You’d invite her—maybe a few of her friends, too—to the spearing caves. More likely than not, they’ll agree. Yes,
they’ll
agree. They might even ask some of
your
friends to join you. It’s a sport, Silvereye. It’s a very public sport. A mare in foal is sacred, be she human or horse. It’s in the Code, too, but it’s one of those clauses most don’t understand. I haven’t seen a record of it happening in hundreds of years. There’s only one way to gain power through sex, and it’s…”
Kalen’s face burned, and he shut his mouth with a clack of his teeth.
“It’s what?”
He sighed, long and heavy. “If you bed the Rift King, you’re a Queen. That’s why Arik had so many Queens. He enjoyed his time in the spearing caves far more than he should have.”
“And you have none.”
“No is a powerful word in the Rift, Silvereye. It’s respected.”
Drumming his fingers against the table, Captain Silvereye watched him with narrowed eyes. “Interesting. What do you think would happen if one of your Rifters saw a woman being raped?”
Kalen flinched. “Breton’s been to Kelsh enough times that he knows what rape is. He’d put an end to it. I suspect the rapist wouldn’t be touching another woman ever again once Breton was finished with him.”
“And Maiten?”
“We’d be counting how many pieces Maiten left the rapist in once he figured out what was happening. He’s seen a rape victim before, though he doesn’t, so far as I know, really understand what happened to her. I keep Maiten assigned to Mithrias, where his mare keeps him quite busy when he’s not in the Rift.”
Silvereye nodded. “Rape is common, but it’s a secret shame among my people. It happens, but most won’t talk about it.”
“Exactly.”
“This could be problematic.”
“It isn’t a problem so long as it isn’t one of ours doing it, Silvereye. May their deity have mercy on them, because we won’t.”
“You as well, Blackhand?”
“As well? I’d be among those handling the executions, and gladly.”
“Good. Now, about Anrille. Do you want to deal with her? It’s within your rights to have her chastised or removed from the company. Frankly, she could be put to death for what she’s done.”
Kalen grumbled a rude remark under his breath. “Wasn’t breaking her arm chastisement enough?”
“No. You need to demand respect, Blackhand.”
“Posturing, just what I wanted. Very well. I’ll think of something. If she’s such a good archer, then Parice will need to heal her arm. It’s tempting to let her run around in a cast for a while to serve as a reminder of her idiocy, though.”
“I wouldn’t argue with that.”
“Is she any good at teaching others?”
“She’s taught many of the women archery, yes. She’s quite patient when she wishes to be.”
Kalen considered Kelsh’s princess and his blood family, and then he started to grin. Could he arrange things to accomplish several goals at one time? Anrille’s punishment didn’t need to hurt her—much—and if Kalen could arrange for some much-needed education for the Kelshite princess, it’d work even more in his favor. “Good. I think I have an idea, then.”
“What is your idea?”
“You’ll see.”
“You’re a very frightening man when you say that.”
Unable to help himself, he grinned. “Want to watch?”
“I’d pay good coin for the right. This work will keep for a while. Do show me what you have in mind, Blackhand.”
~~*~~
Breton found Captain Silvereye walking through the camp side-by-side with the Rift King.
“Breton,” his foal greeted with a smirk.
Jerking to a halt, he first stared at Kalen before turning his wary attention to Captain Silvereye. “Captain Blackhand, Captain Silvereye,” he replied.
“Guardian, why don’t you join us? It seems Captain Blackhand has an idea.”
Every muscle in Breton’s body tensed, and the Rift King’s playful grin was vibrant before vanishing under a disturbingly neutral mask.
“What sort of idea?” he asked.
“He thinks he’s figured out a way to deal with Anrille,” Silvereye replied.
“The woman who came at you from behind, Kalen?”
“Yes.”
“Do I need to restrain you, foal?”
“Me? Not at all. You may want to hold Silvereye back, however, when he figures out what I have in mind.” Once again, the Rift King smiled.
“Stop doing that,” he chided.
“Doing what?”
“Smiling. It means you’re about to do something I won’t like. You’re not tricking me this time, foal.”
His foal made a noise that sounded suspiciously like a giggle. “Me?”
Silvereye shook his head. “Is he like this all of the time?”
Breton nudged his foal, who wasn’t acting very mature, dignified, or at all like the Rift King should. “Only when in a really good mood or if he thinks he’s being clever.”
“Should I be worried?” The Mithrian Shadow Captain frowned, staring at Breton’s foal.
“Don’t worry, you two. I think my idea will prove to be a most excellent use of Anrille while teaching her not to cross me.”
“Killing her might be more merciful,” Breton muttered.
The Rift King stepped on Breton’s toes, made a disapproving noise, and ducked into the healer’s tent. “Parice.”
“
You!”
a woman’s voice rang out, roughened from pain. Breton sucked in a breath and darted into the tent after his foal.
The Rift King stood straight and proud, his lone hand braced against his hip, glaring at the woman seated on the edge of a cot. She had dark brown hair and equally dark eyes. Her arm was restrained by a sling. Parice hovered nearby with a disapproving expression.
“You will address me as Captain,” the Rift King replied, his voice cold and emotionless.
When Captain Silvereye joined Breton, he exchanged glances with the Mithrian.
The woman rose to her feet, and she proved taller than Parice, which made her an equal in height to most men. “I will do no—”
“You will.” The quiet way Kalen spoke chilled Breton far more than the snow had. The woman’s eyes widened, and she backed away, her legs bumping into the cot.
“Yes, Captain,” she whispered.
“Better. Sit.”
With a shudder, she sank down onto the cot.
“Since you don’t seem to be informed, unlike the rest of the company, I am Captain Blackhand. Unless I tell you otherwise, you will address me as Captain or as sir. Am I understood?”
“Yes, Captain.”
Breton was torn between his concern for the woman’s fate and his pride in his foal’s neutrality and complete control of the situation.
“Under the charter of companied mercenaries, the penalty for attacking your captain is contract severance without pay. Alternatively, the officer majority may elect to have you executed if they determine that your actions have endangered the company.” The Rift King’s gaze bore into the woman.
Anrille trembled and sweat beaded on her brow.
True to his foal’s prediction, Captain Silvereye stiffened and looked ready to intervene. Breton reached out and caught the Mithrian’s attention with a nudge of his elbow. He shook his head, hoping the Shadow Captain understood him.
The man remained still and quiet.
“I might be willing to overlook your crime,” his foal murmured, and the hard edge of his voice softened.
Breton was pleased when the woman didn’t relax. If anything, her breathing quickened and she was even more anxious at the Rift King’s words.
“I will give you several choices, Anrille,” Kalen continued. “Your fate is in your hands.”
“I understand, Captain,” she whispered.
“Good. First, you may choose to submit unpaid severance and exile back to Mithrias. Second, you may choose to accept the rank of new recruit, where you will be retrained under Captain Silvereye’s command. I suspect he will not be as gracious as I am. Third, you may choose to submit to my direct command, obeying my every order until I deem you are fit to return to your regular position. You will retain your rank, but you will be required to spend at least one month under my guidance, which is approximately how long it will take for your arm to heal. Decide.”
The woman’s eyes flickered to Captain Silvereye, who remained silent, much to Breton’s relief.
The Rift King waited.
Captain Silvereye cleared his throat. “Anrille, what is your choice?”